Snapshot
by MissMissingYou
Summary: Omegle RP. A snapshot of John and Sherlock's day-to-day life. Established Johnlock, don't like, don't read.


**This was an RP on Omegle; I was John, the other person was Sherlock. I have no clue who they are in real life, so if you see this, you're awesome! Sorry for any OOCness or mistakes, this is un-Beta-d.**

**Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC, John belongs to Sherlock. I am not a famous author, a major broadcasting company, or a genius detective. Ergo, NOT MINE!**

_When will you be home, love? SH_

**Half an hour, I'll pick up a Chinese on the way. Love you. JW**

_Love you too, you're the best. SH_

**Any luck with the new case? JW**

_Yes, I've narrowed it down to two suspects. SH_

**Who? JW**

_The mother or the little sister. SH_

**How did you come to that conclusion? JW**

_The sister was jealous because she was marrying her high school boyfriend. The mother because she doesn't have an alibi. SH_

**Does the sister? JW**

**And what do you want from the Chinese? JW**

_No, come to think of it... SH_

_Whatever you like. I probably won't eat much. SH_

**You've barely eaten in two days, love, you'll eat a decent meal if I have to force feed you. Are you sure it was just one of them? They could have been in it together? JW**

_Hmm. I'll tell that to Lestrade and he can probably figure it out from there. Must I, John? SH_

**Yes. I mean it, Sherlock, I worry about you sometimes. JW**

_I'm not horrifically underweight. SH_

**You will be if you don't start eating more. JW**

_It's only transport, John. SH_

**Transport needs fuel to run. JW**

_Only once a week or so. SH_

**Like it or not, love, you're still human. You need to eat, preferably a lot more than you do now. I happen to like your body, I don't want you ruining it with neglect. JW**

_It's fine. I haven't passed out in almost a month. SH_

**It's not fine, Sherlock! Most people don't pass out from lack of food at all! JW**

_I don't need food like most people do. SH_

**Your body says otherwise. Hence, passing out. You're just being irrational now, love, that's not like you at all. JW**

_I'm perfectly rational, John. I don't want it, nor need it. SH_

**No, you might not want it, but you do need it. You wouldn't pass out if you didn't need it. Tell you what, if you eat what I ask you to, I won't stop you insulting Anderson for a day. Okay? JW**

_Fine. SH_

**Good. I'm at the door. JW**

Sherlock got up, throwing his phone on the couch and walking to the door. He opened it with a smile and kissed John's nose gently. "Welcome home, darling," he said softly, giving him a proper kiss as well.

John kissed him back gently, trying to tug his coat off without breaking the kiss or dropping the food.

Sherlock chuckled and took the food from him, letting him get out of his coat. "Come on, I'll go set the table," he said cheerfully.

"Have you texted Lestrade yet?" John asked as he followed Sherlock into the kitchen.

Sherlock nodded as he went to the cupboard, grabbing two plates for them. "They're going to find the sister and mother and bring them in for questioning."

"Good. The sooner this is over and done with, the sooner I can get you to sleep," John replied as he grabbed two mugs from behind a jar of toenails.

Sherlock chuckled as he turned, gasping slightly as he became extremely dizzy. He set the plates on the counter and gripped it tightly, trying to stay upright.

John left the mugs on the table and rushed over to Sherlock. "Are you okay, love? Can you stand properly?"

Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Yeah... fine."

"This is why you need to eat, Sherlock. You're going to end up killing yourself out of stubbornness one day," John murmured as he led Sherlock over to the sofa, not letting him go until he was sitting down.

Sherlock put his head between his knees once he'd gotten to the couch, taking several deep breaths as he tried to end the dizzy spell.

John brought the food over and sat next to Sherlock, rubbing his back with one hand. "Here, try to eat something. It'll help."

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm fine. I just need some water," he murmured as he opened his eyes, the room swimming before him.

"Sherlock. Eat." It wasn't a request.

Sherlock looked over at him with a guilty look before taking a fork and taking a small bite.

"There, it's not so hard, is it?" John smiled at Sherlock. "I'm going to make some tea, want any?"

Sherlock nodded slowly and watched him go, his dizziness fading slightly.

"Keep eating," John called, not looking over his shoulder.

Sherlock pouted slightly and took another bite. "There!"

"There'd better be at least half of that in your stomach by the end of tonight, Sherlock, or I'll tell Lestrade not to give you any more cold cases for a week," John threatened.

Sherlock pouted more and continued to eat. "What if I'm full?" he called out, tilting his head slightly in defiance.

"You've barely eaten three bites, you're not full yet." John placed the plain blue mug down in front of Sherlock, cradling his own Doctor Who one in his hands.

Sherlock stuck out his tongue at him and took another bite before pushing it away in favour of his tea.

"I swear, you act like a three-year-old sometimes," John mumbled half to himself, picking up his own fork.

Sherlock shrugged with a little smirk, sipping his tea and rubbing John's back gently.

John leaned over and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's temple. "What's on the telly?"

Sherlock shrugged again. "You expect me to know?" he asked teasingly as he finished his tea.

"Well, you know everything else," John teased back as he snuggled into Sherlock's thin body.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head. "Hope I'm not too bony for you."

"No," John answered, tucking his head into Sherlock's chest, "you're perfect for me." And he was. It might have been weird and argument filled and anything but what a normal relationship was, but it was theirs, and that made it perfect.

Sherlock ran his fingers through John's hair with a little smile on his face. "Aren't you sweet," he murmured, kissing the top of his head.

John hummed indistinctly and closed his eyes, letting himself relax further into his genius. "Only for you."

Sherlock chuckled softly and carded more fingers through his hair. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"Can't be, he's sitting next to you."

Sherlock looked around and shrugged. "I don't see anyone."

"What, am I invisible to you?" John mock-pouted.

Sherlock giggled and kissed his nose. "Of course not. How could I not notice such a handsome young man?"

"'M not that young," John murmured sleepily, yawning in an adorable (cough-very manly-cough) way.

Sherlock chuckled at the adorable yawn and picked him up, wavering slightly on his thin frame. "I'm taking you to bed."

"S'okay, I can walk," John wriggled half-heartedly in protest, but allowed Sherlock to carry him to their room.

Sherlock hummed and brought him into their room, putting him on the bed and starting to help him change.

"You're very forward tonight, Mr Holmes," John smiled teasingly.

Sherlock chuckled and kissed his belly button. "I wouldn't take advantage of a pretty thing like you."

John squirmed under him. "Sherlock, stop! I'm ticklish!"

Sherlock laughed and went to get John's pyjamas, slipping them over his slender waist.

John pulled Sherlock down onto the bed next to him and wrapped his arms tightly around his genius.

Sherlock giggled and held him close. "I don't even have my pyjamas, love," he said teasingly.

"Sleep naked, I don't mind," John replied cheekily.

Sherlock giggled and nuzzled against him. Then he sat up, pulling off his button-up and trousers. "Budge over, it's freezing and I don't retain heat."

John lifted the covers just enough for him and Sherlock to crawl beneath them. "Goodnight, love," he whispered, kissing Sherlock lightly on the lips.

Sherlock crawled underneath with him and smiled, kissing him back gently. "Goodnight, my darling," he whispered back.


End file.
